


disappearing act

by leonshardt



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2016-07-20
Packaged: 2018-07-25 17:10:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7541047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leonshardt/pseuds/leonshardt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He comes to McCree late at night, after the fires are extinguished but before the shock can set in, and he says, “So, where are we headed?”</p><p>McCree is already packed and ready. “You tell me,” he says.</p><p>Making the decision to run away is easy. It’s the part that comes after that’s hard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	disappearing act

**Author's Note:**

> an AU where blackwatch falls and jesse and gabriel just fuck off and ride into the sunset together.
> 
> shoutout to shamrae for being cool, and to jay for being the most competent beta in recent memory.

 

“Wanna see a magic trick?” Reyes says.

They’re sitting in a pickup truck with the windows rolled down, parked off to the side by the highway. McCree has his feet propped up against the dashboard, smoking a pack of something he bummed off a corpse, while Reyes cleans his shotguns in the driver’s seat. It’s a hot and humid day. Sweat rolls down McCree’s shoulders, clinging to his shirt, and, not for the first time, he wishes they could be staked out in the convenience store across the road instead, enjoying air conditioning and happy hour slushies.

“Not really,” McCree says. He flicks the stub of his cigarette out the window.

Reyes reaches behind McCree’s ear, and pulls away with a bullet between his fingers.

“Your head’s full of holes, cowboy,” he says.

“Huh,” McCree says. He fishes around for another smoke. “Ever get the feeling you’re in the wrong business, boss?”

Reyes smirks. There’s the sound of screeching tires and a faint rumbling coming down the bend of the road. Their comms crackle. "That's our cue," Reyes says.

He starts the engine.

 

 

Here’s how it goes:

Blackwatch does not die quietly. When Blackwatch dies it’s in a flaming roar, years of infighting and secrecy collapsing in on itself like a landslide, taking with it everything Reyes had tried to build for himself in the years after Overwatch turned its back on him. The UN is going to have a field day with this-- they’ve been looking for someone to blame for a long time. Reyes doesn’t give two shits about the UN.

That’s what he says, anyway. Turn your back on the past, because the past will not miss you; cut your losses while you can, because there will always be something more you have to lose. He comes to McCree late at night, after the fires are extinguished but before the shock can set in, and he says, “So, where are we headed?”

McCree is already packed and ready. “You tell me,” he says.

Making the decision to run away is easy. It’s the part that comes after that’s hard.

 

 

Reyes drives most of the time, because it’s what they’re used to. Just like in the old days. But Reyes is looking a little better for the wear this time around, if you ask McCree. There’s something about California that makes the other man maudlin. They court danger in sunshine and summer breezes instead of shadows, and McCree thinks he could get used to it.

They go down along the west coast, and it takes two months and a raid on an omnium in San Francisco before McCree pulls the trigger of his gun again. After that it was like he never stopped.

“It was defunct,” Reyes says afterwards, jerking his head toward the smoldering remains of the omnium. “Hadn’t been hostile since before the war. But that’s not what this is about, is it?”

“It was ruinin’ the skyline,” McCree replies, and pulls the brim of his hat over his eyes so Reyes couldn’t see.

 

 

They stop by the Grand Canyon when they hit Arizona, because McCree’s always wanted to see it and has never been before, and it doesn’t disappoint. It’s quiet. Even more beautiful at night, when the skies are clear enough to see the stars.

And in the darkness they’re just two more tourists, two nobodies, just there to enjoy the view. Maybe they’ve finally shaken off their tail. McCree charms two sleeping bags out of the old woman in the gift shop while Reyes picks up a postcard from the spinning rack, palming a pen to write with. Later Reyes sits hunched over the dashboard, writes the name _J. Morrison_ on the address line, and McCree peers over his shoulder to read the words.

“Why do you do it?” McCree asks. Reyes shrugs.

“Just seemed like the thing to do,” he says, and leaves it at that.

 

 

It takes a while for McCree to realize that freedom is a choice, just like anything else. For the longest time he thought Blackwatch was just another prison, a curse disguised as a blessing, but there was something else he hadn’t taken into account. A someone. A maybe. He didn’t have to stay for it, but he did, didn’t he? He made the choice, and in the end it all got a little too overwhelming, a little too hard to swallow.

So it’s back to old tricks, driving down the long road, wearing the tires thin, busting gang hideouts just for the fun of it. There are still places in the world that Overwatch hasn’t managed to touch, if you know where to look. McCree can feel it almost like it’s a physical thing—becoming untethered, that is— and each step down the road is like a step away from past mistakes, from past regrets. He sheds his old life like a snakeskin, across weeks spent in fluorescent-lit motels, in abandoned campsites, in bar shootouts, back to back with Reyes coming up on the reload. If anything, he’s still got his gun. He’s still got the best man he’s ever known by his side. And if he closes his eyes, he can almost believe they can make it last forever.

But trust is still a little harder than killing, and, well, old habits die hard.

 

 

“So you’re still shit-scared of me, I can tell,” Reyes says conversationally, as he pins McCree’s hands above his head, pressing him against the sheets that are still a little tacky with blood. McCree doesn’t say anything for a moment, because he’s half right—but there’s more than one reason his heart is pounding all of a sudden, and it’s not just because there’s an Overwatch agent’s body cooling on the floor next to them with a slit throat.

And between the broken window and the room service that’s currently making its way down the hallway, they have to keep quiet to avoid being caught.

“Bullshit,” McCree whispers. “I ain’t scared of anything. Not of you, not of Overwatch.”

“Yeah?” Reyes says, voice too close to his ear, and McCree stifles a moan as he works his belt buckle open with his free hand. “You’re a shit liar. Have been since the day I lifted you out of that dirthole. What are you so scared of? Worried that I won’t live up to your expectations? Well, it’s too late for that now. They will hunt you like an animal after this. You hear me? You chose this. You chose _me._ I want to hear you say it.”

McCree bites his lip, stumbling over the words as Reyes spits into his palm and wraps one broad hand around his cock. It’s difficult, because he’s right, always has been, and McCree loves it as much as he hates it.

It always seems to come down to choices, in the end.

 

 

“Wanna see a magic trick?” Reyes says, and they’re outnumbered five to one, but Reyes is still grinning like he’s in on a joke. McCree whirls around, dropping two men before ducking behind a corner to reload.

“Not really,” he says, and Reyes laughs as he lays down cover fire, the crack of his shotguns distinct over the whir of helicarriers above them. This is it, end of the line. It’s now or never. Out of one eye McCree sees all the choices he’s made that led up to this moment, and out of the other eye he sees Reyes beside him: blood on his face, teeth bared in a snarl, with something terrible and perfect in his gaze.

They come up firing, and they don’t look back.

 

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me at my tumblr [here](http://leonshardt.tumblr.com).


End file.
